Split in Two
by Keris
Summary: Sybill Trelawney has made many predictions that have severely impacted on Harry Potter's life..of course, he hasn't heard them all...Please Review!


Split in Two

Flinging her shawl into the corner of the Teachers Lounge amongst the other teachers cloaks, Sybill Trelawney marched over to the tea making area in the corner of the spacious room to make a soothing cup of tea. Merlin knows, she deserved it. Furiously twirling her wand to mix six teaspoons of sugar into her tea, she glared around the room full of her so called colleague's belongings.

There in the corner were Professor Flitwick's books on Ancient Runes. Of course, the man didn't read them, few would have the patience to, and he was the Charms not the Ancient Runes Professor. Instead, he levitated them from class to class so that he would stack them in the classroom in which he was teaching and stand on top of them. How else could his students possibly see him? The man was abnormally short.

Growling at her workmate's books she began to add her milk to the tea. Workmate? "Ha!" thought Sybill. "Workmate, my inner eye". That short man had called her, what were his exact words? Ah yes, "a high strung recluse". "High strung? High strung! I'll give him HIGH STRUNG!" exclaimed Sybill spilling her milk in her overflowing teacup.

Stopping her pouring of her milk and her anger, she bent down to clean up the mess and looked around the room to use something to clean the mess. Noticing some purple cloth she took it and began to wipe up the spill which was obviously Flitwick's fault. Once the spill was cleaned up she inspected the cloth further before disposing of it. A look of recognition crossed her face. Of course. She knew this cloth and who it belonged to. And she ruined it.

Excellent.

With a satisfied, almost smug, look on her face, she lifted the bin lid and dumped a part of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher's turban into the bin. "I think that I had enough talent to do that don't you Professor Quirrell?" she said aloud as she thought of what he said earlier on in the evening.

Picking up her tea she sank into the comfortable red armchair by the fire in the Teachers Lounge and sipped her tea with relief and a relaxed look came across her face and she closed her eyes. However, upon opening her eyes and seeing what was opposite her, the uncharacteristic scowl took over her face once again. Across from her on a wooden oak table, side by side, were empty potion vials belonging to the potions master, Severus Snape and a tartan scarf belonging to the Deputy Head Mistress and Transfiguration teacher, and the "pain in my rear" thought Sybill, Minerva McGonagall.

Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall. Sybill Trelawney began to grind her large front teeth and her cup began to shake violently as she thought of all the things her colleagues, especially the last two, had said about her earlier at the end of the beginning of term feast and after the sorting of the new first year students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry………………..

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Putting on her best shawl and must potent amulets, Sybill Trelawney descended from her quarters as gracefully as possible as she made her way to the Beginning of Term feast. She was a teacher at Hogwarts after all. "One has to present a certain aura of authority," she claimed aloud to herself and then promptly tripped over Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat.

Biting her lip to prevent certain, eh, unsavoury words coming from her mouth-they would just ruin the aura of authority she was trying to convey,-Sybill sat up and readjusted her glasses just in time to see a pair of yellow eyes flash at her and then dart out of sight. Dragging herself up from the hard, excuse me, very hard, stone floor Sybill took a deep breath and started her graceful slash authoritive teacher walk again still trying to forget the encounter with Mrs Norris. She had never liked cats, especially that cat.

That stupid four legged, two eyed, one tailed, pea brained excuse for a cat………..

"No Sybill no, no release the negativity," she said to herself as she reaches the teacher's secret entrance to the Great Hall, though she rarely used it since she rarely went down to eat with the rest of the, shall we say, others who were not as blessed with her talents at Divination. Taking a few deep breaths, loud enough to wake the various portraits nearby, to release her negative thoughts on that particular cat, Sybill quietly slipped into the Great Hall relatively calm and happy. She was about to see the first years being sorted into their houses for the first time in years. It was just a coincidence that Hogwarts newest………… celebrity, Harry Potter, was being sorted too.

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"Who, in the name of all things magical and Merlin, was that? A bat with respiratory problems," asked one of the men in the portrait of the final stand of the great witch Arielle. He was Arielle's executioner. With a very, very big blunt axe.

The blonde witch at the block looked up scornfully at her executioner.

"Honestly Adrian, eighteen years we've been hanging in the same spot and you still can't recognise the Divination teacher. It's Sybill Trelawney, you dolt. Good Merlin man, no wonder it took you two hundred and forty six chops to behead me."

"And you never shut up throughout it, Arielle dearest", muttered Adrian through gritted teeth clutching the axe and continuing on with chop number eight.

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Sybill peered beyond the red curtain that concealed the teachers entrance and was about to stride to her seat with her authoritive teacher walk when she realised that the Sorting and the feast was over and, on closer scrutiny of her surroundings, that all the teachers were just three feet to the left of her talking.

Inwardly cringing at the thought of being caught late by her colleagues, Sybill turned on her heel to leave and go to her quarters and curse Mrs Norris in peace, when she heard two names of interest in her colleagues' conversation. Harry Potter and Sybill Trelawney.

Spinning around on her heel, Sybill immediately returned to her hiding place. Not that she was going to eavesdrop on a private conversation between colleagues. She, eh, had a claim to this conversation. Her name was mentioned. Obviously, she had to hear what was said about her.

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"I hope that you ensure that Potter does not get a swelled head in Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall," Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts, dryly claimed.

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes at Snape. Although as teacher, she could never admit this but Severus Snape was right pain in the a…………

"Well Professor? Surely you are not star struck by the boy," sneered Snape interrupting her thoughts.

"Of course not Severus. I will treat the boy as any other," Minerva retorted.

"Hmph," he replied obviously disbelieving her. Tapping his foot, he asked "How much longer must we wait here?"

"As long as is necessary Mr Snape," replied, no squeaked, the Charms Professor Flitwick. "We do not want a repeat of last year."

"Indeed."

Last year, Peeves the Poltergeist, and the bane of Argus Filch's - the caretaker - life, decided to launch an aerial attack on Filch bombarding him with several cabinets, water balloons, suits of armour, candlesticks….the list was endless. Filch, as a closet squib was unable to defend himself and was in the hospital ward for two weeks. This meant that the whole faculty had to deal with a loud triumphant rhyming Peeves, the wild Weasley twins free from the threat of Filch, as well as Mrs Norris who was fond of tripping them and scrawling them as if punishing them from not protecting her master from Peeves. Professor Victor, the Arithmancy Professor, still had the scratch marks from when he encountered Mrs Norris alone at the Statue of the One eyed Witch.

As did Severus Snape, Hagrid, Madam Hooch, Madam Pince, Professor Sinistra and Professor Flitwick.

Needless to say, none of the faculty were fond of Mrs Norris even Professor McGonagall, who had a certain affection for cats.

Minerva McGonagall looked around the Great Hall as Filch cleaned.

"Did any of you see Sybill? Professor Dumbledore was enquiring after her. I think he wanted to ask her something."

All of the teachers shook their heads at Minerva's question.

"I hope that he did not wish to ask her the future. She is incapable of doing that, as well as teaching students," interjected Snape.

"Hmmm. I would have to agree with you there, for once, Severus," claimed Minerva allowing the teachers to glance at each other with raised eyebrows. Severus and McGonagall agreeing? Merlin, miracles do happen after all.

Even Severus looked dumbfounded at this. He hadn't been so shocked since………….well he'd never been so shocked.

There was a sharp intake of breath behind the curtain, but none of the staff heard it nor noticed that there was now a considerable bulge in the curtain near them as if someone was leaning in to hear more.

Minerva continued on, undaunted at her colleagues shock that she was agreeing with Severus Snape.

"Well, you must admit that she is not the most sociable of teachers. She never comes to any Sorting nor comes down to eat with us."

"She's just a little high strung, Minerva. Although, perhaps it's not best that she's, shall we say, a recluse." Flitwick very rarely entered into such conversations, but tonight was obviously an exception.

If any of the faculty noticed, heavy breathing was coming from behind the curtain, as if someone was containing her rage.

"I still don't understand why Albus hired her though. Every year I have to deal with at least one hysterical student telling me that she has predicted that their death is imminent!"

Minerva was shaking her head in indignation and confusion at Dumbledore's appointment of Sybill Trelawney. Severus Snape was, to the staff's everlasting amusement, was nodding his head in agreement. Although, judging from the words that were coming from Sybill's mouth behind the curtain, silently but swiftly, she did not agree.

"F-F-F-Far b-b-e it for me to t-t-talk ill of a f-f-fellow colleague, b-b-b-b-b-but one does ha-ha-have to admit that she has l-l-l-l-little talent at the a-a-art."

Despite this taking Professor Quirrell a solid two minutes to say this, most of the staff had to agree. The breathing behind the curtain became heavier and it looked like someone was clutching the curtain's cloth. Very, very tightly.

Professor Snape was about to continue on but was interrupted by Filch's gruff voice saying "I'm done. You can go now." Each teacher nodded to each other and said their goodnights and left swiftly, eager to avoid the muttering foul humoured Filch and his accursed cat. "Where were ye all last year with y'er blasted wands," hissed a hunched over Filch as he hobbled behind the teachers - out of earshot of course. "Eh? Oh I know my precious that you punished them….." Filch looked down fondly at his faithful cat that was currently encircling his legs.

"How about some food? Then we'll go and give out some detentions to get us back into the swing of things."

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Sybill Trelawney could hardly believe what had just been said about her as she watched her "colleagues" exit from the Great Hall. Wrenching her fingers from her curtain she flew down the hall in the direction of the Teachers Lounge. Each portrait she passed had their mouths wide open, even Adrian stopped chopping Arielle's head as she shouted at him to "get a move on man!", after what he heard Sybilll Trelawney call Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape and Professor Quirrell. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" he said as he began chop number one hundred an fifty five on Arielle once he had risen his jaw off the floor.

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Mercifully, Sybill was able to drink her tea in peace in the Teachers Lounge. More importantly, none of the staff disturbed her. Minerva McGonagall might have had a few extra limbs to transfigure if Sybill had encountered her.

Sybill let out a huge sigh once she had finished her tea. Thank Merlin for herbal tea. It had calmed her down immeasurably after what her colleagues had said about her. She sighed again. Her colleagues had no respect for her. None. They thought that she was talentless. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

Sybill rose to leave and she picked up her tea cup, but unknowns to her, her body went rigid from a true prophecy invading her. She stood frozen in a crouched position by the armchair, teacup on the floor and in an emotionless voice called out to the air a prophecy ………

"_The one with head split in two is the new vessel of the essence of the Dark Lord……..the Dark Lord never truly left this world……..he is in hiding, waiting for his chance to rise again……….he will begin his quest for resurrection upon this night……he will act through this vessel to fulfil this quest……the Dark Lord will slay innocent blood again, but it will be to his destruction..…..the blood of the pure will sustain his souls' essence, but he will strive to be human………but as a human he will have a cursed half life……..the Dark Lord will attempt to possess the ruby stone, for within this lies immortality for the Dark Lord in his second life……..but he will be challenged by the one who is marked, his equal, who is in his eleventh year of life…….this is the first test of the marked one against the Dark Lord…….aided by his friends, he will rise above the challenges given to him…….he will tame a beast………..and face the Dark Lord after walking through black fire unscathed ……….however, the marked one can only defeat the Dark Lord through love and purity of heart, free from material wants and greed…….it is his first test of many….he cannot fail…………."_

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Sybill awoke from this trance disorientated and dizzy. Easing herself back into the chair she groaned when she realised that she had to clean up another broken teacup. Evidently, her colleagues had upset her more than she thought if she had flung her teacup on the ground.

"But I don't remember doing that…….."

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Nine months later, Sybill Trelwney was at the fire in the Teachers Lounge alone while her colleagues were at the End of Term Feast. She didn't go down of course. Slytherin had won the House Cup. She wouldn't be able to handle slimy Severus' face at winning the House Cup again. She would only ever go down to a feast unless it was a huge celebration of something other than the House Cup like visitors to the school. Or unless her own house of Hufflepuff won.

Well, nearly all her colleagues were there. Professor Quirrell was dead. Sybill shivered at the thought of that man and what was in, or rather, on his head throughout the time she knew him. She snorted into her tea, as she thought "I never liked him."

"And he called me talent less. He was defeated by an eleven year old boy no less."

The eleven year old boy's name was Harry Potter.


End file.
